


this atmosphere we've made.

by redhoods



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:18:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He also finds himself obeying, taking in long steady breaths and releasing them. It doesn’t work, but when Peter settles next to him on the floor, Isaac focuses on the beat of his heart, the rush of blood through his veins, the inhale and exhale of his breathing, and he relaxes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this atmosphere we've made.

**Author's Note:**

> for [this](http://christhemsworth.livejournal.com/614.html?thread=38758#t38758) prompt at the fic a thon.

There are times when Isaac misses the days before he was a werewolf and before he had superhuman hearing. It’s unnerving to hear so much and he manages to work himself up because of it, especially when he’s at the Hale house with Derek and Peter, trying to fix the place up. None of them sees the need to fill the silence between the sound of tools as they pull apart walls and floorboards and replace them, though occasionally Peter will talk, tell stories of what the house was like when he was growing up and occasionally Derek will add to it, but it doesn’t happen often enough.

It’s one of the few times that Isaac and Peter are alone in the house, though in separate rooms, while Derek is out harassing unsuspecting teenagers or trying to convince Jackson to join the pack now that there’s no threat of the alpha pack to keep him away, Isaac doesn’t know, doesn’t really care. Fixing up the house gives him something to do and it’s nice to know that he’s having a hand in rebuilding something.

When he finishes the task Derek had him set up on doing, Isaac ends up sprawled on the newly replaced floor, unsure of what to do with himself anymore and realizes that Peter is quiet in the next room over except the dull thud of his heart. Isaac doesn’t focus on that though, but that leaves the sound of the woods and the house settling and the wind and it’s making him nervous, worked up.

Apparently it’s obvious what’s going on, because Peter’s head pops around the corner, “Breathe, pup,” he states and Isaac would snarl at the nickname if he hadn’t gotten used to it to the point where Peter and Derek have started using it as an endearment.

He also finds himself obeying, taking in long steady breaths and releasing them. It doesn’t work, but when Peter settles next to him on the floor, Isaac focuses on the beat of his heart, the rush of blood through his veins, the inhale and exhale of his breathing, and he relaxes.

Next to him, Peter makes a considering noise and Isaac glances his way to find Peter staring at him as if he’s one of the crossword puzzles from the books Peter picks up every time they’re in the store. He squirms under the attention. Peter’s hand darts out and splays on his chest, fingers spread wide and almost searing through the barrier of Isaac’s shirt in a way that he can decide if he wants to press up into it or trying and pull away.

Peter makes another considering noise before, “Oh, _pup_ ,” and the way he says it, the emphasis on it or the inflection, Isaac doesn’t know, can’t focus on it, but it has him arching into Peter’s hand, an embarrassed flush creeping into his cheeks. The laugh Peter lets out is fond and it reminds him of how his dad used to laugh when his mom used to do something that just...charmed him is the only word that comes to mind.

Isaac isn’t sure what to do with the attention or when Peter’s thumb starts moving in small circles, feeling helpless under the touch and the _wantneedplease_ that courses through him, embarrassed and turned on and confused. And it’s quiet again, only disturbed by Isaac’s on weak panting and the slightly shaky breaths that Peter is taking.

“You know, Derek really shouldn’t keep you in the dark about so much,” Peter starts, like he’s talking about the weather, not rubbing his thumb over Isaac’s collarbone in a way that feels like a brand and looking at him like he’s suddenly found the answer to life.

Swallowing heavily, Isaac stays sprawled where he is on the floor, unsure if it’s okay to touch or what’s even happening, “Like what?” he asks, hating the way his voice shakes and how dry his mouth feels, licking his lips to attempt to alleviate it.

Peter’s stare heavy and hot on his mouth doesn’t help. “About your instincts,” he finally breathes out after just staring for several long moments. His hand shifts, like he’s pulling away and Isaac whines, high and needy. Shushing him, Peter’s hand slides under his shirt, pressing against skin once more, even hotter without the fabric between them, “About the things your wolf will seek out.”

Isaac feels overheated and flushed, torn between the arousal thrumming through his veins and embarrassed by the sounds and feelings the Peter is drawing out of him. He can’t even focus enough to ask questions, simply transfixed by Peter’s gaze and hand.

Isaac feels overheated and flushed, torn between the arousal thrumming through his veins and embarrassed by the sounds and feelings the Peter is drawing out of him. He can’t even focus enough to ask questions, simply transfixed by Peter’s gaze and hand.

It’s obvious though that Peter doesn’t need him to respond, “Just look at you,” he murmurs, tone reverent, “You’re like sensory overload,” he adds, almost like an afterthought, “So responsive.”

There’s a small part of him that wants to curl up and hide himself from Peter, but it’s almost completely eclipsed by the part that just _wants_. The part that wants him to arch up and show his belly and bare his neck, the part that is slowly eradicating his embarrassment in favor of arousal and wanting to please Peter, who isn’t even his alpha. This doesn’t feel like wanting to please Derek though, this is something different, though still instinct, but something more primal.

“Werewolves have a mating instinct,” Peter continues, his hand sliding up further, the pad of his thumb rough across Isaac’s nipple, drawing out a moan and full body shudder from him, “And, really, it’s not even about breeding,” his voice is hoarse now, like it’s finally effecting him, “It’s about pack and then even more than pack, and about giving in to what the wolf wants, even more so when your human side agrees with it.”

And, damn, if Isaac’s entire being isn’t on board with this.

Peter’s hand pulls back again and Isaac doesn’t whine this time, finds himself trusting Peter to take care of him, to be there. “Good, pup,” Peter murmurs, his voice rolling over Isaac in a way he’s never felt before, “Not going anywhere,” he adds, his fingers curling into the hem of Isaac’s shirt and dragging it up.

Isaac manages to push himself into an almost sitting position, curled towards Peter while he raises his arms so Peter can pull his shirt off. When Peter’s hand cup over his cock, painfully hard in his jeans, though, Isaac crashes back to the floor, elbows and shoulders impacting hard, but it hardly deters him, hips pressing into the touch, seeking relief and friction and more.

Curling a hand over Isaac’s hip to keep him still, Peter tuts at him softly, making Isaac flush once more embarrassed at his own eagerness, “It’s okay, Isaac,” Peter tells him softly and no one has ever said his name like that, it makes him pant, curling in towards Peter.

“I wish -” Peter cuts off with a heavy swallow, pulling his own shirt off when Isaac pushes at it with restless hands, wanting skin, “I wish I could mark you,” he continues and Isaac’s thighs spread apart when Peter moves to settle between them, “Teeth and fingers and just let everyone know who you belong to.”

He whines at that, arching up for the pleasure pain of friction through his jeans, “P-peter,” he chokes out, almost sobbing, “ _Please._ ”

Peter settles over him, heavy and pressing him into the hard floor, while his nose slides along Isaac’s jaw and then his teeth sink into Isaac’s skin, just over his pulse point. Isaac’s vision whites out and he comes, sticky and not quite sated in his jeans. When he comes back to himself and his vision clears up, Peter is still settled over him, his tongue lapping at where he had bitten down, his hips rolling down into Isaac’s, enough so that he can feel that Peter’s hard.

Isaac gets a hand between them, fumbling to get Peter’s jeans open, blushing hard at how obviously inexperienced he is, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering Peter any, if the way he’s panting against Isaac’s neck is anything to judge by. He manages to get Peter’s jeans down enough that he can get a hand in Peter’s briefs - ‘I bet he wears boxer briefs,’ he hears Lydia say in his head and curses her for always been right - wrapping his fingers around Peter’s cock and jerking him off. The angle is awkward and his motions are a little jaunty, but Peter is groaning above him, fucking himself down into the curl of Isaac’s fingers so he figures it’s okay.

His motions are startled a little, when Peter suddenly kisses him, hot and deep and filthy and so good, but he picks up with renewed vigor, pleased and satisfied when Peter shudders above him, breaking the kiss as he comes, his back arching. Isaac knows he should feel gross, Peter’s come on his chest and stomach, and his own jeans beyond uncomfortable, but Peter is back kissing him, long and deep drugging kisses that he wants to always experience.

The kiss breaks slowly and Isaac is left staring up at the partially fixed ceiling while Peter settles into his side, but is startled out of his thoughts when Peter’s hand settles against his stomach and it takes him a few seconds to realize what Peter’s doing with a soft, “ _Oh._ ”

Peter chuckles next to him, soft and fond still, “Can’t have other wolves wanting what isn’t theirs,” he states softly in explanation, like he’s once again talking about the weather.

Isaac’s wolf hums in contentment and he really wants to be upset, because he’s not property, but his body is rebelling against him and he’s getting hard again and Peter’s eyes are dark when their eyes meet.

“You’re mine, pup,” Peter murmurs finally, and, yeah, okay, Isaac can handle that, especially when Peter shifts them to spoon up behind him, his chest rumbling in approval.

Isaac finds himself getting lulled by the beat of Peter’s heart, like that’s the only sound that matters.


End file.
